


Feeling Good

by theoxfordcommando



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Hawke, M/M, PWP, be the change you want to see, there is a serious lack of bottom!Hawke fic in this world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 04:11:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoxfordcommando/pseuds/theoxfordcommando
Summary: "“Will you let me take care of you tonight? I just want to make you feel good.”Hawke’s giant frame was bearing down on Fenris, but what should have been imposing was now simply comforting. There was a familiarity to Hawke’s weight above him, his concrete presence was a reassurance, a balm. It was easy with Hawke; easy to let his guard down, to embrace the comfort that he was being offered."Hawke takes care of Fenris, and Fenris takes care of Hawke in turn.





	Feeling Good

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I don't even know. This is without a doubt the dirtiest thing I've ever written. Hashtag no regrets?
> 
> Also my boys switch, but this fandom needs more goddamn bottom!Hawke and I guess I'm here to provide.

“Will you let me take care of you tonight? I just want to make you feel good.” 

Hawke’s giant frame was bearing down on Fenris, but what should have been imposing was now simply comforting. There was a familiarity to Hawke’s weight above him, his concrete presence was a reassurance, a balm. It was easy with Hawke; easy to let his guard down, to embrace the comfort that he was being offered. 

Fenris smiled up at the burly mage; “Are you never going to tire of focussing so much of your attention on me?”

Hawke was smiling back, but his eyes were serious when he leaned in even closer to Fenris to whisper against his lips; “Never.”

And Hawke’s lips were on his then, and for the next few moments everything else melted away. There was nothing beyond the slide of Hawke’s tongue, the heat of their shared breath. When the mage finally pulled away, mere centimeters at most, Fenris tried to compose his features, as best as he could.  
He didn’t imagine he’d done a very good job. For one thing, he was very aware of the feel of his own lips, slick and bruised. For another, Hawke was looking down on him triumphantly like he’d won some sort of contest.

“Well, I suppose if you must insist.”

Hawke’s smile was silly, contagious; “I must, I must.”

Very well, Hawke.” Fenris relented. 

This time it was Fenris who moved up to meet Hawke’s lips, one hand coming up to thread through the mess of brown hair on the top of his head, finding purchase and holding firm. One of Hawke’s hands was resting firmly on Fenris’ breastbone and he could feel the heat from Hawke’s palm in his heart. Fenris raised his other hand to grip the side of Hawke’s neck, keeping him close, bracketed between Fenris’ slender arms. 

Eventually Hawke broke the kiss, but he did not move away. Fenris smiled up at him, eyes closed, lips parted. He let a cool breath escape, revelled in the chill that moved through his body as cold air moved over warm lips; “Mm, you do know how to make me feel good, after all.” But Hawke didn’t rise to the bait.

“Maker’s balls, but you’re beautiful.”

Fenris opened his eyes then to meet Hawke’s gaze, and the intensity of feeling in those amber eyes almost choked him. Every time Hawke looked at him like this, like he could see into Fenris’ very soul and wished to love every part of it, some of the hard edges around Fenris’ heart smoothed. It was a powerful sensation that he felt with every inch of him, and somehow each time it happened was just as surprising as the first. 

“Flatterer.” he managed.

“I’ve been practicing.”

Fenris made a decision then and looked up at Hawke with a smirk.  
The glint that shone in Fenris’ eyes was devious. And stupidly attractive. While Hawke was so distracted, Fenris managed to get one of his strong, tanned legs around Hawke’s hip and, in one fluid motion, flipped the two of them so that Fenris was now on top, hands pinning Hawke’s to the bed on either side, hips pressed flush over Hawke’s own, frustratingly still. 

“Perhaps, tonight, I’d like to make you feel good.” Fenris said, leaning over to press a soft kiss to Hawke’s sternum. 

“You do- Fenris, fuck- always, everything you do.” Fenris took his time to kiss his way up Hawke’s throat, taking a brief moment to press his face into Hawke’s neck and inhale the scent of him, before pulling abruptly away.

“Mn, in that case, perhaps I shall do nothing at all.” 

Hawke whined then, a wholly unflattering sound, and Fenris merely smiled from where he sat, perched on Hawke’s hips. His grip on Hawke’s wrists tightened just a fraction. 

There was something comforting about this too, being stretched out over Hawke. It was a heady feeling, having such a large and powerful man beneath him, entirely at his mercy. For there was truly no other way to describe Hawke in this moment. The mage’s whole body was being drawn to Fenris. His eyes were closed, brow furrowed like he was deep in concentration.  
Fenris could feel the tendons in his wrists, tense beneath his palms, where the man had clenched his hands into fists, a quiet reminder to himself to stay where he was.  
His hips were still beneath Fenris’, pressed firmly into the mattress, acknowledging Fenris’ silent command.  
And yet, his back was bowed, chest pushed out like he was desperate to be as close to Fenris as possible. As though having any place where skin did not meet skin was an unbearable injustice. 

Fenris allowed himself a moment to just observe; a moment to gaze down on this man who loved him with his whole heart, whom he loved in return, with everything that he was.

And, if he were to be entirely honest, there was a unique thrill in teasing Hawke, in seeing just how badly he was wanted. 

“Hawke.” Fenris murmured. But Hawke didn’t move an inch, eyes still firmly shut, every muscle tensed, anticipatory. “Hawke.” Fenris said again, louder. Hawke’s eyes flew open to reveal pupils that were large and dark, nearly obscuring every last bit of gold. “Hawke, tell me what you want.”

Hawke breathed in, breathed out again. “You.”

This was not a helpful answer, but then again Hawke could be a very unhelpful man, when he wished. And so Fenris leaned down to kiss him again, passionate and merciless, leaving his lover flushed and panting for breath.  
When Fenris pulled back, Hawke groaned in frustration, chest rising up once more as he fought to keep himself still, desperately missing Fenris’ heat. 

“Fuck me, Fenris. Please. Need you-“

Now that was an answer Fenris could work with.

“Don’t move.” Fenris said as he let go of Hawke’s wrists to retrieve the bottle of slick from the bedside table, not once breaking eye contact with Hawke. Retrieving the bottle, he pulled the stopper out with his teeth and, spitting the cork aside, poured a generous amount of slick onto the fingers of his right hand. Hawke was smiling.

“That was hot.”

Fenris scoffed at him, but his own smile was impossible to miss.  
He did break Hawke’s gaze then, as he reached down to run a finger ever-so-lightly over the strip of sensitive skin behind Hawke’s balls. He heard Hawke’s sharp inhale, his soft groan. Meeting the mage’s eyes again, he moved one hand up his chest to press him down into the mattress as he entered him with the other. 

Hawke always made the same sound, in that first moment of connection when Fenris’ fingers breached him. A soft ‘oh’ that seemed out of place on the lips of a man so large.  
Fenris loved it.

Setting his teasing aside, Fenris began the task of opening his lover. This was a familiar dance, one that they had become used to, but there was no getting used to the sounds Hawke made when Fenris had him here like this. It was intoxicating the way his breath would catch, the quick, aborted moans as Fenris increased his pace.  
And while the buildup was indeed wonderful to behold, it was nothing compared to the main event.

When Hawke reached out to grasp Fenris’ shoulder, Fenris withdrew his hand.  
Hawke’s eyes had fallen closed somewhere along the way, but as Fenris moved back over him, situating himself more comfortably, Hawke’s eyes met his again. There was a flush high on his cheeks, and Fenris could see where he’d been biting on his lower lip.  
Fenris had never seen anything quite so breathtaking. 

Hawke’s legs were splayed on either side of Fenris, open and easy, and Fenris reached down to lift one up slightly to better accommodate himself between them.

“I love you,” Hawke said, eyes locked with Fenris’. “Fuck, I love you so much.” And Fenris chose to kiss him rather than respond; knowing his own love for Hawke for written across his face, clear as anything.

Drawing back, he lifted Hawke’s leg a bit higher before he entered him. He watched, mesmerised, as Hawke pushed the back of his head into the mattress, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling. 

When Fenris had gone as far as he was able, he stilled for a moment. The feeling of being inside Hawke was indescribable, almost overwhelming. He was hot, hotter than anything, an all-encompassing heat that caused Fenris’ heart to burn bright behind his ribs. 

This close, Fenris could feel the magic in Hawke’s blood. It was silent, but it thrummed with a quiet energy, washing against Fenris in soft, gentle waves, pulsing in time with the lyrium that covered his body. It was electric, being with Hawke like this. 

Gathering himself, Fenris let Hawke’s leg drop and it came to fall naturally around his waist. He skimmed his hand up Hawke’s side, coming to rest over his heart, which he could feel, pounding in the man’s chest.

“Hawke, look at me.” and Hawke did, his own hand coming to rest atop Fenris’, on his chest.  
Finally, Fenris began to move, slowly at first, his pace quickening steadily. Hawke continued to meet his gaze even as he moaned and writhed beneath the elf.  
When Fenris could bear it no longer, he bent down to kiss Hawke again, revelled in the startled inhale as he pushed deeper, the low hum of contentment that followed. 

Hawke broke their kiss as he came, the hand not entwined with Fenris’ flying up to smack against the headboard. 

And it was too much, his heat, his smell, the low, guttural noise he made as he found his release. Fenris’ mind went blank, overwhelmed by the feel of Hawke around him.

When Fenris came back to himself, he withdrew, taking a moment to recover his bearings before standing and snagging a cloth from the wash basin in the corner of the room. After he’d cleaned the both of them, he fell into bed beside Hawke, boneless and happy.

Hawke rolled into him, flung one of his large, hairy arms around Fenris, drawing him close to his large, hairy chest. 

“Feel good?” Fenris asked, muffled slightly from where he was pressed against Hawke’s pectoral. He felt rather than heard Hawke’s laugh, and he reached out his own arm to wrap around Hawke. 

“Never better.” Hawke responded, placing a soft kiss on the top of Fenris’ head. 

The two of them fell asleep like that, happy, warm, and loved.

 

And nothing had ever felt so good.

**Author's Note:**

> Come stalk me on my tumblr, theoxfordcommando, where I have more writing and a vast collection of Fenrises. <3


End file.
